by Brian Beam
I alit from Telis and unbuckled his feed bag. After strapping it to his bridle, I tethered his reins to a tree and tied my shoulder bag to the saddle. I dug a small fire pit and collected some stones from one of the ruined buildings of Old Geeron to border it with. After gathering some twigs and starting a small fire, I took my cooking pot and waterskin from the saddlebags to set some water to boil for Max’s favorite: spicy vegetable stew. Possibly spicy rabbit vegetable stew if Max was successful.
After chopping up the vegetables and setting them in the water along with some spices, I decided to explore the ruins of Old Geeron as I waited for the water to boil. Some of the ruins were almost indistinguishable from any other plant covered mound except for random edges of stones peeking out from dirt. Most of the old buildings must have been wooden and therefore rotted away over time. The stones probably had once been their foundations. Through the dim light, I could make out a somewhat still-standing stone structure in the distance. With nothing better to do until Max returned, I started towards the dilapidated, moss-covered building.
Along the way, I passed the crumbling tombstones of an old cemetery with a low stone wall that was almost completely buried in the forest floor. Some tombstones had toppled and were hosts to mushrooms and lichen growing atop them. With such little light, I wouldn’t have been able to make out the words or dates on the headstones even if they hadn’t already eroded away. It was kind of sad. The people buried there had probably been forgotten.
I wish I could have placed a date on the place. Delving into the history of the world is part of the fun of travelling it. I’ll have to remember to ask Max if there was a date on that map he’d seen.
Turning back to the stone building ahead, I continued on. Rising two stories with a missing roof and sections of the second-floor walls crumbling to the ground, the ruins of the structure still held up well compared to the rest of the old town. As I neared it, I could see that no other intact buildings stood beyond it. Perhaps it had been some kind of town hall or a Lord’s house. That would explain why it would be the only stone building. Now it was just a vine-covered ruin of a forgotten town.
As I approached the empty doorframe, a light suddenly flashed within it. I threw my cloak back and half drew my sword reflexively, ready to position myself on the defense. The golden light spilled onto the ground outside of the doorway that was now filled with a tall, human-shaped shadow.
“What’s this? Two visitors in one day?” a rough male voice spoke from within the doorway with a unique lilting accent I was unfamiliar with. The lilting seemed to be at odds with his rough baritone.
I leaned forward trying to glimpse into the doorway. “Who’s there?” I questioned warily. Having not walked far enough to be in front of the doorway, I couldn’t see more than the light spilling out and the shadow within it. Something felt wrong about the whole situation. Besides, what was with the guy trying to be all mysterious?
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” the man spoke in that lilting accent as he stepped through the doorway.
Before me was a tall man—almost as tall as the doorway and at least a head taller than me—illuminated by the lantern he held. The sharp lines of his strong, shaven jaw and the serious look in his dark, emotionless eyes made him look like the type of man who hadn’t laughed in a good while—if ever. Running diagonally from the side of his left eye, over his flat, broad nose and down to the corner of his mouth was a stark-white scar that almost seemed to glow in the lantern light. Long earthen-brown hair graying at the temples was pulled back and tied, hanging behind his back. Around his neck, a small spherical black stone hung suspended from a leather thong.
Sleeveless, studded-leather armor covered his torso and had matching bracers, leaving most of his muscular arms bare. If he was feeling the coldness of the evening due to his exposed skin, he didn’t show on his hard face. Thick leather pants tucked into tall studded boots finished his warrior-like ensemble. My eyes flickered to the broadsword sheathed at his left side and the tensing of his right arm. I had a feeling that I really shouldn’t mess with the man.
“My name’s Korin Karell,” I stated, trying to be optimistic that the man did not mean me harm while keeping a firm grip on my sword hilt just in case.
“The name’s Menar, Korin,” he replied taking a couple confident steps towards me, closing the gap between us.
Once he had stepped through the doorway, I saw two men trailing behind him. Unarmored, the dirty-faced men were armed with bared daggers and garbed in filthy, ragged clothes and worn boots. Menar, however, was perfectly clean. I figured Menar must be some sort of leader to this band of ruffians. I hate to stereotype, but nothing good typically comes from encounters with men of their caliber.
Menar and his lackeys stopped several paces short of me. “What brings you out to our neck of the woods? So to speak, that is.” His mouth almost twitched into a smile on a face made pale in the lantern’s glow, but instead confirmed my suspicions that it was incapable of doing so. His right arm was still tensed and the sword at his hip was free in its scabbard. Between that and the dagger wielding misfits behind him, I realized that this day just wasn’t my day.
“I’m just passing through.” I met his gray, emotionless eyes with the best “don’t mess with me, punk” look I could muster. “I’m looking for a Kolarin who stole something from me who may have passed by here. Have you seen them?”
“Ah, the little runt. We let him pass through with all his belongings against my better judgement.” What looked to be confusion flashed for a split-second in Menar’s eyes. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, for you, you won’t be getting off quite so easy. See, my men here need money to eat. That’s a nice looking sword you have there as well.” Menar started advancing again. I unsheathed said sword, ready to defend or attack.
“I really don’t want any trouble here, ponytail.” See, that’s what happens when I feel threatened. I get a smart mouth that serves as a shovel to dig my grave even deeper. Well, at least I knew that if I did live, I was definitely on the right track to find the Kolarin thief.
Menar almost looked amused. Well, the slight flicker in his eyes was probably as close as he would come to looking amused at least. “Trouble from us?” he began gesturing with the lantern at himself and the two grimy men behind him, “or them?” he finished pointing a finger from the lantern towards me.
Turning sideways so that Menar would stay in my peripheral vision, I could see at least four more men approaching from the other side. There could have been more, but I could barely see as the forest darkened further. Without Max, I didn’t like my odds.
“Alright, what will it take for me to pass?” I conceded. Surely these men didn’t wait around to just kill anyone who came through. I could possibly just buy my way out of the fight.
“That depends.” Menar took another step towards me and as he did, the black stone around his neck began to faintly glow and emit a humming that sounded like of a swarm of bees. My earlier suspicion that I could buy my way out was shattered as he began loudly cackling—the mad, evil genius way. Apparently I was wrong about his inability to smile or be amused
“Keep with me here, ponytail,” I called out over his maniacal laughter. Before, he seemed like an over-serious tough guy. Now he just seemed crazy. “What do you want?”
“This is too good to be true,” he choked out as he laughed, ignoring me completely. Even the men behind him seemed confused. “All these years and then you just show up like this. You willingly come to me.” His voice and eyes conveyed disbelief. He tilted his head back and started laughing louder to the point of snorting. His face reddened in his lantern’s light, making his scar even more prominent.
If I had been cautious before, I was now on full alert. People with a lack of sanity usually don’t have much to lose. If I couldn’t trade some coin for being able to walk away, I may have literally not been able to walk away when they were done with me. “Hey, crazy-face. I have no idea who you are.
Just tell me what you want.” I realized I was screaming to try to get his attention.
As the last word left my mouth, Menar’s laughter abruptly stopped and his gaze returned to me. His eyes were no longer emotionless, but filled with rage. “Just you,” he whispered harshly.
“Korin!” I looked up to see who was calling my name as if through a clenched jaw to see Max at the edge of the light with a still twitching brown rabbit hanging by the scruff of its neck in his mouth. “Run!” he commanded around the rabbit. The intensity of his raspy voice said that he was serious and when Max gets serious, I listen.
I broke into a run towards the darkened shapes of the men who had approached before, hearing Menar’s sword being unsheathed with a metallic ring behind me. “Kill him!” he screamed.
The men in front of me hesitated as I ran towards them with sword in hand, screaming. That hesitation was all I needed to knock daggers out of the hands of two of them with my sword and knock a third down with a shoulder. The fourth, and thankfully last, turned and ran. You had to admire the bravery of men in this day and age.
I rounded on the first three men, but they were running also. They must have been used to much more docile prey. I turned, expecting to see Menar and his other two goons chasing me down. Instead I saw Menar and the two other men pressed against the wall of the stone building with their arms and legs splayed out and not even touching the ground. I wasn’t sure if the fear on the two cronies’ faces was from not being able to move, from magic being used on them, or from the fact that there was a talking cat in front of them. Menar’s eyes held no fear, just anger.
“You?” Menar spat, leering at Max who was still holding the half-alive rabbit in his jaws. The stone on Menar’s leather thong was no longer glowing or emanating that annoying hum. “That’s impossible.” Menar started struggling to no avail against the invisible bonds plastering him to the wall. His anger faded back to his emotionless gaze and then to amusement as he let out a small chuckle. “Makes so much sense now.”
Max remained silent and was visibly quivering. The energy needed to direct the magic to hold all three men was much more than I had ever seen him use at one time with his magic before. Without the rabbit, he wouldn’t have even been able to cast such a strong spell without losing a major part of himself—I’ll explain later. Max’s head strained to turn towards me. “Run,” he rasped intensely with what seemed like incredible effort.
Realizing that I had just been standing there like a Herzil-blooded artist’s model, I dashed in Telis’ direction. Herzil is the almighty god of art by the way.
You may think I’m a coward for not helping Max with those men, but like I said, when Max seriously tells you to do something, you do it. If I interfered in whatever was going on between him and Menar, I would most likely end up dead judging by the tone of Max’s voice. Now, I just had to pray to Vesteir that Max had the strength to get out of the situation alive.
Apparently I needed to add myself to that prayer since my cookfire illuminated five more filthy men ahead that were gathered before Telis. These men also lacked armor, but three held single-edged longswords spotted with rust, one held a rusty-tipped spear, and the last gripped a long, thin dagger in each hand. Their firm stances and confident hold on the weapons meant that they either knew how to use those weapons or were just overly confident in their skills. Either option made them dangerous.
I figured that maybe I could coerce my way out of a deeply unbalanced fight. I brushed back my cloak and raised my shortsword while pointing at the men with the other. With my best attempt to appear and sound reckless with a touch of crazy, I called, “Hey, you overgrown apes. Menar and your buddies have already tried their hand at me. Do you really want to test your luck?”
All five men just stared at me with anathematic expressions. The sword-wielding, dirty man in front drew back his weapon, poised to strike. “Try us,” he hissed through a gap-toothed sneer, charging at me with his band of merry men close behind. So much for coercion. Sadly, these men weren’t as cowardly as the three I had already faced.
I immediately took the defensive. Until I could judge the skill of these men, I needed to at least prevent them from killing me. Even with my confidence in my own abilities, five armed men against one is never good odds for anyone. The murderous look in their eyes said they would follow Menar’s orders to kill me without question.
As the men reached me, I parried the first swings from two of the swordsmen and followed up with a roundhouse kick to knock away a lunging spear. The third swordsman’s blade dragged shallowly down the front of my right shoulder. The blade was not sharp enough to tear through my shirt, but I could feel my skin tear underneath. Blood started soaking through my shirt. More alarmingly, my injured arm was my sword arm and the wound would do me no favors in handling my weapon.
I knocked the injuring sword away with my own and ducked below another sword swiping at me, grabbing my dagger with my left hand in the same motion and fluidly sidearming it into the thigh of dagger-boy before he could lunge at me. The man dropped to the ground screaming. And that was just the first ten seconds of the fight.
Instead of rising back to my feet, I leapt into a roll between two of the swordsmen and came up backed against one of the colossal trees of the forest. I needed to keep the area that the men could attack me from as small as possible. These men were much more capable than I had believed. If I ran, they most likely knew the woods much better than I and could probably catch me with minimal effort if I was on foot. However, if I could fight my way to Telis, I could make a break for it.
With throaty screams, the four standing men launched into another attack. In my current position, they were limited to taking me on in pairs. I kicked one of the swordsmen in the stomach when he raised his sword and parried the second’s swing. The man with the spear lunged the spear’s rusty tip between the two men towards my chest. I deftly leaned to the side, the spear tip entrenching into the thick bark of the tree.
The man I had just kicked—let’s call him “dirty-beard”—recovered and aimed a two-handed swing towards my neck. In one flowing movement, I knocked the blow away with my own sword and brought my sword back around to deflect another slice by a second swordsman that I’ll refer to as “lazy-eye”.
With dirty-beard and lazy-eye off guard and the spear-wonder still trying to tug his weapon free, I nimbly spun around the third swordsman before he could attack and broke towards Telis. Chasus would’ve thumped me over the head for failing to keep tabs on dagger-boy after he went down with my dagger in his thigh because in this case, my oversight got me tackled roughly to the ground by my legs.
Keeping a firm grip on my sword as I fell among plants and rocks, I flipped over as fast as I could against the pain of my shoulder wound. Dagger-boy was bringing one of his namesakes down towards my face. I relieved him of the task with a left-handed punch to the face, knocking him to the ground beside me for a follow-up right elbow to his chest.
By the time I could regain my feet, the other four were advancing on me with dagger-boy staggering to his feet beside me. The pain in my shoulder was excruciating. Blood continued to soak into my shirt, expanding into an imperfect crimson circle. I was weak with hunger—the smell of boiling vegetables was not helping—and I was completely in the open. In other words, this was bad. Really bad.
All five men reached me, turning the fight into a flurry of blades. My bearings were completely thrown off as I attempted to ward off strikes from the five men’s weapons as they sliced and poked at me from all directions. My attackers’ weapons started to become blurs as I vainly defended myself with my shortsword. Firelight glinted off weapons, making it look like we were fighting with weapons straight from the forge.
My arms tired swiftly. Something stabbed me in my left side. In the confusion, I couldn’t have told you at the time if it was from a sword, dagger, or spearhead. I felt the slice of a sword through my cloak and shirt across my back. The pain registered, but my body and mind refu
sed to let it slow me. I felt my sword sickeningly penetrate one of the men in front of me. I pulled it free as quickly as possible to resume my futile defense.
Every inch of my body burned from either injury or exertion. Sweat poured from my skin. Warm blood, turned cold in the night air as it seeped from my wounds. Death seemed to be inching closer and closer.
With my death seeming imminent, I would have expected to regret never finding my birth parents. Instead, I found myself regretting that I would never get to see Mathual and Harriet again. They deserved more than a son who would leave home to get himself killed when they could have no children of their own.
I also thought of Max and hoped that he would live through his own battle with Menar. The little furball was my only true friend in the world and had done so much for me. I prayed to Vesteir—to all the gods even—that he would be okay.
All of a sudden, a blinding yellow flash followed by the sound of an explosion came from further inside Old Geeron. The men momentarily ceased their attack to cover eyes or ears and in that instant, I sprinted towards Telis with my ears feeling stuffed with cotton and my vision half white from the intensity of the flash of light. I could faintly hear the sound of crumbling stones somewhere behind me.
Cutting the rope tethering Telis to the tree and sheathing my sword, I practically jumped onto my saddle. I braved a quick glance back towards the men. They were retreating except for dirty-beard’s body on the ground, the flickers of the fire illuminating his still form.
My whole body went numb and bile started rising in my throat. I had killed a man. I’ve never doubted that I would find myself in fights during my journey, but I never considered that I could ever kill someone. I never thought I was even capable of doing so. I couldn’t even move. I was hardly even aware of what was going on anymore.
My mind spun with questions. What would Mathual and Harriet, think? Would they accept me home with open arms if they knew? Who was I to take away his life?
